Promises
by Ella Mantry
Summary: A short tale of hearts and promises, both broken and mended, and of the night Frankenstein's monstrous creation decided to pay his master's bride a visit. "Tell me, Elizabeth, is love always so fickle?" Based on the original novel and Nick Dear's adaptation staring Benedict Cumberbatch as The Creature, Naomie Harris as Elizabeth Lavenza, and Jonny Lee Miller as Victor Frankenstein.


**Title:** Promises  
**Author:** Ella Mantry  
**Rating:** T-Rated

**Summary:** A short tale of hearts and promises, both broken and mended, and of the night Frankenstein's monstrous creation decided to pay his master's bride a visit. "Tell me, Elizabeth, is love always so fickle?" Based on the original novel and Nick Dear's adaptation staring Benedict Cumberbatch as The Creature, Naomie Harris as Elizabeth Lavenza, and Jonny Lee Miller as Victor Frankenstein.

**Warnings**: Suitable for ages 13 years and older, with some violence

**Disclaimer:** As you can probably guess, I lay no claim what-so-ever to the wonderful characters, settings, and plots of either the Nick Dear's play adaptation or the original novel by the renown Marry Shelley. I do however express my creative license as a FanFiction author to borrow and to bend those aforementioned features, as well as my ownership over any original characters, settings, and plots I so choose to add in.

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_℘αrt oηε tωo_

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Icy rain fell in sheets against the outer walls of the Frankenstein house. Like some horrible beast seeking entrance, vicious gales rattled the windows and doors. But while they held fast, no amount of barricades or gilded latches could contain the storm that raged within.

Victor Frankenstein stood in advance of his bride, trembling. Intoxicated by his own might.

"I have beaten _Death!"_ He very nearly shouted. "I have done it. I have made a living thing." Yet Elizabeth could hardly credit what she was being told.

To have built some sort of a man and animated him?_ A functioning, brute of a man, _he'd said._ One that pursues him._

In the time that she had known Victor, Elizabeth had never once doubted his brilliance, but this was absolutely preposterous! Were it not for his urgency, the mere suggestion would have made a stuffed bird laugh. Nevertheless, he swore that he had somehow used the cumulative power of his genius to…to construct a creature.

A monster.

What had Victor _done?_ And _why_ had he done it?

"But if you wanted to create life—"

"Yes, that's it! That's exactly what I wanted!"

"Then why not just give me a child?" She demanded with a force that had him rearing back. "We could have married years ago."

"No. No, that's not—"

"Because that is how we create life, Victor. That is the usual way."

"_I am talking, about science!_" He snarled, looking very much the savage he so claimed his monster to be. It shocked her, enough that Elizabeth felt the need to search his eyes for some semblance of the usual fondness in which he held her.

And found only a coalescence of soot and self-obsession.

"No." She said, "You are talking about pride. You've been trying God's work, is that what you're telling me? And it has gone awry."

Awry, indeed. Who was this man standing before her? He could not be the same Victor who in their youth had brought her cut wildflowers then proceeded to pull them apart and explain to her their inner workings. So endearingly eccentric, he was.

No, sometime in those six, long years he spent in Ingolstadt, when he'd been bewitched by the occult musings of Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, and Albertus Magnus, another man—a stranger—had come and stepped into his place.

One enraptured with the idea of playing God.

She was beginning to fear this man.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, however, for his ire seemed to cool, if only a little. Victor took another step, furthering the distance between them. "In you, I found Paradise." He said. "But the apple is _eaten._ I cannot go back." _I can only go forwards—_The words she'd heard a thousand times over, the dictum by which he lived, echoed unspoken in the silence as he marched past her without a glance.

Elizabeth remained unmoved. "You've meddled with the natural order, and led us into chaos, because you worship the gods of electricity and gas. What is wrong with you?"

Victor ignored her, taking up his pistol from the vanity. "There are guards all around the house." He said. "I will kill this thing that I so foolishly made and then I will come back to you."

But in what form, she wondered, for it was the old Victor who Elizabeth so desperately wished to return.

She tried once more to appeal to his sensibility. "Please don't go. Hold me, please—"

"There's time for that when this is done." He declared as he made to leave. Upon reaching the entryway however, Victor hesitated. "I _do_ love you, Elizabeth." He spoke, his voice soft and familiar, barely above a whisper. It made her want to draw him back and embrace him.

But he was already gone, tearing into the night after his beast, and all she could was pray.

For him. For them both.

Resigned, she locked the door behind him but as a flash of lightning forked across hot, silver clouds she suddenly felt hands grasp her round her waist and mouth, hauling her back towards the bed.

"_Don't scream." _Said a voice in her ear: low, rough, and sepulchral. She trembled._ "_I will not hurt you—_don't_ scream. I need your help."

Her captor held her tight against his chest. She felt the puffs of his breath disturb her hair, and his nose brush against the shell of her ear as he spoke. "Can you guess who _I_ am?" She nodded her head in affirmation.

It was the monster—Victor's horrid creation—that held her in his clutches now.

"But he didn't mention what I looked like, did he?" No, he had not, and she pondered all the terrible reasons why as the creature continued. "Are you _curious_, Elizabeth?"

Once again she nodded, and he seemed pleased by it. "Don't scream. I will release you."

Slowly his arms came away from her, and he moved far enough away that his presence no longer pressed upon her so directly. "Turn around. Look at me." He spoke and slowly, quaking all the while, she did.

Almost immediately she wished she hadn't.

This…man, if one might call him that, appeared as though he had been stitched together like some sort of macabre quilt. Ghastly scars, knotted and gnarled, ran across his chest and face; crisscrossing his skull. She nearly fainted when he at last addressed her.

"I need your help. I have a…grievance."

"_Victor_ did this_?_" She gasped, and his face pulled into a grisly grin.

"Do you think he is clever?"

"A genius."

The creature huffed a spiteful laugh. "Ah, yes. That is right." He turned away then, taking in her bedchamber and giving Elizabeth the chance to calm the heaving of her chest while she observed him further.

Once past her initial terror upon the sight of his ruined mien, she realized he wasn't so horrifically inhuman underneath all the stitches and scars. In fact, she could see how in another life he might have once been considered wholesome, perhaps even handsome. He face was long and oddly angular but not in such a way that was wholly off-putting, while his skin was pulled taught over his bones, making the cut of his cheeks so very sharp and striking.

But it was his eyes that were perhaps his best feature. Some indiscernible mix of blue and green that was fascinating, captivating, and most definitely human.

Thus she decided that while yes, the alterations made to his person were grotesque in the extreme, beneath them indeed, lay a man.

With that in mind, she gathered herself together. "What is your name?"

"My name." He said with a terribly winsome sort of smile. "What a _luxury_ that would be—he didn't give me one."

Suddenly, he came alive in flourishing bow which seemed to either mimic cultured society or mock it, she could not tell which. "Touch." He commanded, gesturing to the crown of his head. When she did, he leaned into her palm, savoring the softness of her skin. "What do you feel, Elizabeth?"

"Heat." And indeed there was, radiating from his patchwork scalp up into her hand. Quickly, he grasped it and placed it upon his chest.

"And _here?_" He asked.

An unmistakable pulse fluttered beneath her fingertips, drawing her to meet his gaze. "A heart beat."

His eyes gleamed at her admittance and he touched his hand over where her own heart pounded, "Just like yours."

They stood there for a brief moment, hands on each other's hearts, until Elizabeth grew stiff in discomfiture. "Now if you please, we'll have none of that." The creature glanced down to where his hand lay, noticing it seemed more on her bosom than was proper, and yanked it back immediately. She took a step away and smoothed the lines of her skirt before addressing him again. "You say you have a grievance."

"Madame, your husband is a good man, but he does not keep his word." He stared at her, more through her really, she could see the memories flickering behind his gaze like a zoetrope.

Without warning he spun away sharply. "If you had a child and it looked like me, would you abandon it?"

Her reply was without hesitation, for it required little thought. "I'd never abandon a child."

"Quite sure?"

"I'm sure—"

"No matter how repulsive?"

"I am sure—"

"Well_ he did_. He left me because I look like this—because I am different."

Elizabeth felt anguish settle within her chest. Oh, what a dreadful villain he painted Victor out to be! So cruel and inhuman and nothing at all like what she had come to expect. Indeed, she had a hard time imagining her Victor as the propagator of this man's grief, for it was so vast, but given what she had been told by both men this awful night, against all reason it seemed to hold true. As much as it pained her to think it, the actions of the man she once thought could do no wrong now warranted no defense, because even if he could barely stand the sight of his creation, it was Victor's duty to see after his welfare.

"If Victor has treated you poorly, I shall speak to him. You may count on that—"

"Isn't he coming to your bed?" The creature asked suddenly, spinning about the room.

"—he must learn to take responsibility for his actions,"

"Surely he desires you on your wedding night?"

"—and that we must always stand up for the disadvantaged." She continued, not liking where the conversion was headed.

At that, he whirled to face her. "Absolutely! Give voice to the oppressed. Will you put my case?"

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief and thought that if it was within reason, then of course she would help him in anyway she could.

"What is it you want?"

"I did not ask to be born. But once born, I will _fight_ to live! All life is precious, even mine." The Creature—no, the _man_ stated, with all surety and confidence. "He promised to give me the one thing I lacked—the one thing I needed to be content. But then he…broke his word."

He stared at her for an immeasurable moment, pleading with those lovely eyes for her understanding. "I want a friend, that is all."

A friend. All he wanted was a friend. Dear God in Heaven above, no wonder this poor, pitiful creature acted the way he did. Had he never been shown any kindness? Most likely not, and Elizabeth decided she would rectify that.

"I'll be your friend. If you'll let me."

"Will you?"

"If you need help, then let us put our minds together and see what we can do."

It appeared as though she had managed to shock and elate him simultaneously, for he jumped into motion. "Sit with me." He said, patting the bed with such excitement. "I will not hurt you, I promise. I am educated. I know 'right' from 'wrong.'" She perched herself on the edge as he sat beside her, seeming barely able to contain himself and reminding Elizabeth of a child bursting to share what he'd learnt that day in school.

Now that she thought of it, he truly was a child, wasn't he? It was not so long ago that must he have been born, and to have come so far? To walk and speak as a man, though with some difficulty and affectation. She was amazed by such progress in so little a time.

"Incredible. You are quite, extraordinary."

"Me?" He inquired with an innocent tilt of his head that made her lips turn up in humor.

"Yes, you."

"Perhaps I am a genius, too?"

She laughed.

How like Victor! Such unabashed reveling in intellect. Really, they two could be twins at this very moment and the thought made her smile grow. "Perhaps you are."

But all too soon her mirth faded as her thoughts were once more brought back to her husband, fixating on the difference between the Victors of past and present.

Their union had been the favorite plan of his parents ever since their infancy, she had been told as much and taught to look forward to it as an event that would certainly take place. They had been affectionate playfellows during childhood, and valued friends to one another as they grew older, or so she believed. But brother and sister often entertain a lively affection towards each other without desiring a more intimate union, and they had been raised as such.

Could it be possible that he had never actually held her high enough in his regard to think himself in love her? These past years, Victor had always boasted to his gentlemen friends about his luck in having such a beautiful bride-to-be. Could she really have only appealed to him on such a superficial level as his vanity and pride?

The thought was as sobering as it was sickening. "I suppose though that genius is not pinnacle of happiness, is it? Knowledge sates the mind, but it leaves the heart hungry and cold. Book pages hold no warmth in an embrace."

At that, her companion froze and stared at her for the length of two breaths, eyes narrowed in a strange way as though he were cutting her open and peering inside. She hadn't felt so unnerved since his initial appearance.

"Is all not…well, between you and your love?" He hesitantly inquired.

"No. No, I don't suppose it is. Not given light to the present situation."

He stared at her from the corner of his eye as though he did not understand what he saw. Anxious. He seemed anxious, by why should he? What reason would the knowledge of her marriage's failings give him to be distressed?

"Do you love him no longer?"

"I love him still, certainly. But I find I cannot help but wonder now who it is that I love, because the Victor that I have wed, the Victor that did the things of which I have just been told, is not the Victor that I have come to know and cherish." Her brow furrowed further as she went on. "I wonder if that Victor is still there for me to love, if he has gone away, or perhaps if he was never there at all. I find I do not recognize him anymore."

In return her companion said nothing, choosing instead to fidget in his seat. If anything, her explanation seemed to have only agitated him further.

"I am to understand that you loved him before, as he once was, but not now." He asked after a breadth of awkward silence.

"I don't know." Was all she said in reply, not lifting her eyes from where his hands sat clenched in his lap, like he was fighting to keep some great compulsion at bay. Really, why would this upset him so?

"And this change of heart is because of me. Because he created me."

Oh, he thought she blamed him for her suffering. "No, no of course not. The change in Victor has stemmed from his own volition, and his alone. It is by no means your fault."

He shook his head. "You are the first to say so. In fact, you are like no other I have met before."

Elizabeth turned towards him with a smile, hoping to engage him in more lighthearted conversation. "Have you met many people?"

"Some." He replied. "In my travels, I have watched and listened and learned. At first, I knew nothing but I studied the ways of men and slowly I learned how to…ruin. How to hate. How to debase. How to humiliate." The more he spoke on the horrors of his past, the more her smile fell. "And at the feet of my master I learned the highest of human skills, the skill no other creature owns; I finally learned how to lie."

At that last admission, dread began to pool in her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I feel I must be honest with you now Elizabeth because you yourself have been nothing else, and for that I am most grateful, but I lied when I promised you no harm." Her breath caught in her throat. "Doubtlessly he has not told you, but this grievance concerns more than just a broken oath. I am owed a great debt in wrongs done to me by your bridegroom for you see, he did create for me a companion as he had promised. A love of my own kind, and she was," he drew in an uneven breath "perfect." Then his eyes turned to chips of jagged ice, sharp enough to carve flesh from bone. "But shortly thereafter he tore her from me, ripped her to shreds before my very gaze. So I sought to do the same" He turned to face her "with you."

She jerked back as his hands came to circle her arms. "I do not wish to hurt _you, _Elizabeth—"

"Then don't!"

"—but I must. In order to have justice, I must." His ruined face twisted further in grief. "I am…_truly_ sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth understood then that she was going to die unless she found some way to dissuade, or at least delay him, but what could she possibly say? His grip was constricting tighter and tighter, saturating all thought with animalistic fear. She had to act fast.

They say vengeance emanates from a need for acknowledgment, that the slighted seek an end to their humiliation and helplessness through retaliation. Perhaps then she should attempt to reach beneath the layers of boiling rage and charred cynicism to the tender flesh still throbbing with heartache.

"I hear your pain, Sir," she began "and I understand how you now feel the need to exact retribution, but you must know that revenge is a barren tree; it will bear you no fruit for your efforts. Do you truly believe that it will satisfy your soul?"

His lips pressed into a hard line. "It matters not, for revenge is all I have left. My soul is well and beyond damned."

"That's not true, you mustn't think so! The path to redemption may be arduous and paved with wearying obstacles, but it is never cut off to any one man. You may seek it through God and friendship and—"

"_Friendship_!" He bellowed. "Once, I falsely hoped to meet the beings who, pardoning my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was capable of unfolding, but my accursed creator formed a monster so hideous that even _he_ turned from me in disgust!" His mouth strained into a horrible grimace as he spoke, as if each word was a cut upon his already bleeding heart. "Only one as ugly as I, could ever love me. For that reason alone, I am solitary and abhorred. I have thus decided that if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear! I will give them the monster they seem to desire so enthusiastically."

"And _that_ is it what you truly want?"

It seemed she had at last pushed too far, for he looked on her with a molten hatred so hot, she could feel it burn her where his fingers dug into the flesh of her arms.

In that horrible moment which stretched the length of hours, she knew with absolute certainty that her next breath would be her last, and the terror was all encompassing. But before he struck, before he dealt the final blow, his face suddenly cracked and splintered into a rictus of sorrow, and it seemed she had indeed managed to touch the man buried beneath the beast after all.

He stared at her with eyes gleaming wet and wailed, "_All_ I wanted was _his love!"_

Then, just as abruptly he crumpled, all of the fight draining from his frame as he pitched forward to sag into her shoulder and wept. Jostled suddenly from being assaulted to embraced, Elizabeth was at a loss as to how to respond.

"I would have loved him, with all my heart." He said against her shoulder whilst he held her ever so gently. "And now…Now, all I can think of is the means to his desolation, as he had brought about mine. It consumes me. Tell me, Elizabeth, is love always so fickle?"

She swallowed dryly, but it seemed that he no longer desired her death. Or perhaps he had not truly meant to kill her, even as he doled out threats with as much veracity as he could muster. Perhaps he had merely sought to scare her as terribly as he had young William¹.

Looking at it in that light, he acted as the wounded animal pressed into a corner, lashing out at whomever came near in fear of further injury.

Not so much a monster after all.

"In all honesty, I do not know. I'd like to hope not." She said, once she was able to find her voice.

He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. "And so the blushing bride knows as little of love as the heinous beast. Well, I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. For that one who would look upon me with sincere kindness, I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine."

"I don't doubt it. And I'm sure there are those who would come to care for you, if you allot them the patience to do so. The world at large is full of spite and cruelty, it's true, but that does not mean it is entirely devoid of love."

He took a great shuddering sigh, as though her words were as searing as they were soothing, but remained folded against her.

"Could you see yourself as, one day, loving me?" He asked after a quiet time, for in that moment that was what he found himself wanting, coveting, _needing_. Elizabeth was the humanity of which he'd first dreamt when he was pure and untainted, lying in the rain-soaked grass. Warmth and softness, kind and nurturing. He wanted to burrow into her lap and let her soothe the gnawing ache that festered in his heart.

Almost as if hearing his thoughts, her hands came up to touch his shoulders and he nearly choked on his sob. "I don't know you well enough to say." She finally whispered in reply, and it came as a great surprise to him, for not only did she lack any and all obligation to humor him in this, but she was a married woman this night. To his creator, no less!

They sat there for a while; Elizabeth rubbing circles into his back, listening as his cries quieted down, and he finding solace in the pacifying rhythm of her breath.

When he had calmed enough, he slowly pressed back from her embrace to face her. "I could not. Not you, with your unaccountable beauty and infinite compassion and me with my pallor of death and savagery. We are too…"

"Different?" She finished for him.

His lips pulled into a smile even as a few more stray tears fell along his ruined cheek.

"I thank you for your patience and for your friendship, Elizabeth. Now that I have it, I feel a contentment I have yet to experience before in my lifetime." He said as he finally stood, grasping her small hands firmly in gratitude and resigning himself to depart.

Elizabeth rose to her feet as well. "Yes, of course. And I gladly give it to you. But why still the solemn face?"

"I…am sad to leave your company is all, but am otherwise truly happy I assure you."

She smiled and touched his cheek, not even flinching when the soft pads of her fingers lighted upon the rough edges of his sutured flesh. "Come now, we are friends and friends do not part with words left unsaid. Tell me, what is the matter?"

"Dearest Elizabeth, I thank you but…" He trailed off as he attempted to reign in his rampant emotions. Alas his efforts proved to be futile as he exhaled sharply in surrender. "This hole—this gaping pit—behind my ribs that hungers for love and comradery, I fear it will never be satisfied. I have your friendship, and yet even with that wondrous allowance I crave something I should not."

Elizabeth felt her breath become shallow. "What is it you crave?"

"You are a married woman."

"What is it?" She whispered.

He looked pained by her demands, but gave into them nonetheless. "That which I have only experienced through word upon parchment, yet have envisioned its splendor over and over in the dimmest of nights." He looked away, settling his gaze at her feet. "I would dare _dream_…to kiss you, Elizabeth."

At his admission, the wind left her lungs entirely.

Elizabeth thought back on all the times she'd been approached in request of a kiss and realized that none of them had ever asked in such shy earnestness as this, not even Victor. Especially not Victor, who rarely touched her and had never even kissed her save for the obligatory and perfunctory kiss to signify their joining in matrimony. Yet here was his creation telling her how he _dreamed_ of her kisses.

Elizabeth thought that it would be rather nice to be kissed with such ardent feeling.

"Well, it is rather dark, is it not?"

His eyes grew wide, almost hilariously so, and he swallowed noisily. "That it is." The way he looked at her seemed as though he thought her a hallucination, contrived by his mind for the sole purpose of his torment.

But indeed she was real, and if she was truly saying what he so desperately hoped, he would not allow this moment to slip by.

He placed his hands upon her delicate shoulders and shifted towards her, one centimeter at a time, so sure of his rejection. Yet Elizabeth could not find it in her to remove herself from his grasp. He came close enough that she felt the warmth of his exhalation across her mouth before his head dipped, and he brought his lips to hers.

It was barely a kiss at all, more a sharing of breath, but she shuddered all the same. He pulled back a handbreadth only to press against her mouth more firmly, and it was_ wondrous._

When he finally withdrew his expression was that of utter devastation. He traced her cheeks with trembling hands, before suddenly falling to his knees to clutch at her skirts like a woeful child.

"_By that lip I long to taste." _He mumbled into the fabric of her dressing gown._ "By that zone-encircled waist. By all the token-flowers that tell, what words can never speak so well²__."_ Elizabeth realized the he was crying once again, that her kiss had brought him to tears.

The moment was shattered, however, upon the echo of Victor's voice sounding down the hall.

Her companion stood and gathered her up against him desperately. "Oh lovely Elizabeth, stay. Say you will, _please._"

"I shall, but you must go. Victor aims to kill you. Even now he searches."

"Then say you will see me again. Promise me." He begged. "Promise me."

Her gaze fell to the bedroom door briefly before returning to him."Give me a name by which to call you so that I may in turn give you my word." She said, and his heart stuttered to a near halt.

He had once told Frankenstein that it was Satan with whom he sympathized. He should have been Adam, and would have had his Eve were if not for…But sheltered in the luminous glow of the angel before him, he found that perhaps he had merely fallen from the Garden of Eden, that he could be Adam still—for _her_—and he told her so.

"Adam." She smiled. "It is a lovely name. Then Adam, I promise you as your friend and companion, that we will see each other again. Upon my word, I swear it."

The smile that graced his face was blindingly brilliant. "And if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet again, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness."

Victor's frantic shouting began to grow louder as he approached, forcing Adam to flee ere he risk discovery and death.

"Go, Adam. _Quickly!_" Elizabeth gasped and he did, vaulting through the window to escape into the night.

But it was not with a heavy heart that he did so, for he knew he would see her again.

She had promised.

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**Dear Readers,**

**I hoped you enjoyed reading "Promises" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Obviously Elizabeth would never be able to care for her brother William's murderer, so suppose if you will that the creature just scared him rather badly and that his terror was enough to spur Victor into confronting his creation****¹**. It might have become a bit _La Belle et la Bête_ in the end, but it's a timeless tale. The quote in annotation 2 is_ Maid of Athens_ by Lord Byron. As it stands, this is my first attempt at writing a short story and while it was at times a bit frustrating, I feel it was well worth it. For the experience if nothing else.

**An other note, for those who have read my previous Fanfiction "Perennial," please know that I have not given up on that story, though it seems to have collected quite a bit of dust in the time since I last updated. I do plan on working on it again tough, but only after I finish my next story which will be a multi-chapter work in the fandom of Sherlock, hopefully long but not arduously so.**

**Anyway, much thanks for your support and reviews.**

**Sincerely,**

**Ella Mantry**


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